


Fairy Godmothers Aren't Real

by pherryt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean and Sam have a craptastic life, Fairy Godmothers, Happy Ending, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Pre-Relationship, john hits dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 16:25:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12214494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: Dean's mom always told him that Angels were watching over him. The way his life's been going, he's stopped believing that a looooong time ago. But it doesn't stop him fromwishingthat Angels or Fairy Godmothers or something similar really existed and could solve his problems with the swish of a magic wand or the snap of their fingers.But wishing doesn't make it true.So why is there a Fairy Godmother standing in front of him?





	Fairy Godmothers Aren't Real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rw_eaden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/gifts).



> Prompt #5 from [ Rosemoonweavers Fic-o-ween prompt writing challenge](http://rosemoonweaver.tumblr.com/post/165388933710/please-excuse-the-lame-graphic-im-a-writer-not): All their life Character A hoped for a someone to take them away from their crappy life. They always hoped for a hero or maybe even a fairy godmother. Yeah! A fairy godmother would be great! That was until they actually got one…
> 
> So Bobby's part is really small. So is Johns but it's pretty important. Sam's is bigger but the story is short enough that i felt i should tag all of them.
> 
> As for the fic...i'm not entirely sure it works for the entirety of the prompt. I got all of it except that last bit. when i was originally writing, my brain interpreted that to be more like "This fairy godmother isn't what he expected" rather than what it reads to me now, which is "oh god, get it away from me!"
> 
> So i hope Rose still likes it even though it's not quite what you asked for? :D
> 
> \- Not Beta'd...

Dean hated living at home.

They never had enough money for things they wanted to do, much less food. The house was falling apart (Dad had never had much motivation for anything after Mom had died. At least, not for anything worthwhile, like being a Dad or even a responsible adult), and Dean wasn’t even allowed to have friends over because while Dad couldn’t be bothered enough to keep the place – well, if not in better repair, at least _tidy_ – he was too ashamed to let anyone see how far they’d fallen.

Neither Sam nor he ever knew if they’d have electricity or heat and oh, that’s right, Dad drank.

Dean supposed it could be much, much worse.

That was cold comfort when he was sporting another bruise on his cheek because of Dad. To get things straight, Sam and Dean’s father didn’t _abuse_ them. No! He didn’t go out of his way to hit his sons, or do real damage to them. He never even laid a hand on Sam at all. Dean just…hadn’t…gotten out of the way fast enough when they’d been arguing. That was it. No big deal. Dean could take it.

And if Dean fervently wished that angels or fairy godmothers or just _something_ were real so they could magically make this shit life of his better, nobody had to know.

“Boy, what is that purple thing on your face?” Bobby nearly growled at Dean when Dean showed up at the shop that day. He worked three jobs with the hope that he could make enough money to move him and Sam outta their house and away from Dad.

“Nothin’, Bobby. Just tripped, is all,” Dean countered. “Whattya got for me today?”

“Continental, bay 2,” Bobby grunted, staring at Dean suspiciously. Dean just gave him a wide old grin and got to work. And when, 5 hours later – because Bobby didn’t have enough work to keep him on the schedule full time (gotta love big chain shops, squeezin’ out the little people) – Dean clocked out, it was time to head out to Benny’s Gumbo Shack where he got a similar reception.

“Cher, why is it every time I see you, your sporting another shiner?” Benny leaned over the counter, the dull grey dishrag paused on the old wood countertop.

“Just clumsy, I guess,” Dean muttered, ducking around the counter and into the back, shucking off his thin jacket – inadequate against the autumn cold – and hanging it up, snagging his apron.

Dean didn’t think Benny bought it, if that squinty eyed, thoughtful look was any indication. But if Benny didn’t bring it up, Dean was gonna operate as if he had. And if Dean daydreamed about big burly men with close-cropped beards and light blue eyes while he worked – well, who could blame him with that fine, distracting man that he liked to call a friend so often in his view?

Several hours later – it was Benny’s short day – Dean hung his apron back up and took off. It was time to head back to the house and check in on Sam (and by extension, however reluctantly, Dad) before he crashed for a few hours and headed out for his next job – doing custodial work at a local nursing home during the late-night hours (where Mildred would, most likely, ask him the same damn question. She was astute enough to know he was lying through his teeth, but compassionate enough to leave him alone about it. So far).

Of course, when he got home, he found Sam sitting on the front porch, shivering, instead of inside doing his homework. At 16, Sam was pretty serious about his schoolwork, so for Sam not to be doing any of it… Dean rushed over and instantly started checking him over. “Sam, what happened? You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Dean. Don’t worry about me. I just…Dad’s home, and drunk again. And he’s going through the house trashing things. I mean, even if he doesn’t hit me, I can’t concentrate on my work like that.” Sam hugged himself as he spoke and shivered.

“Ooookay, but why stay outside where it’s freakin’ cold?” Dean asked slowly, settling down on the steps beside him.

Sam snorted. “Fuck, like that’s gonna make any difference with our power out again. It was either stay inside and listen and watch Dad rampaging while freezing to death, or come outside for some peace of mind and freezing to death. No contest. Thought about heading over to Kevin’s or Garth’s but I been to Garth’s like, 4 times this week already and you know how Kevin’s mom gets.”

Dean nodded, sitting closer to his brother so they could share a little body heat. “Don’t worry. I’m savin’ up and I’ll get us outta here. Get us a small studio some place. We don’t need big, right Sam?” Sam nodded against Dean’s shoulder. “Right, an’ I got my eye on a place already an’ I almost have the security deposit- once we got that, we’ll be good, ‘cause I only gotta pay the double once.”

“Sounds good, Dean. I can’t wait,” Sam smiled.

“Now c’mon. House may be cold, but at least it’s protected from the wind and you can bundle up in your blankets to keep warm.” Dean stood, pulling Sam to his feet.

“Yeah, but, I still gotta do my homework. I hate doing homework when my fingers are growing numb,” Sam complained. Rightly so, Dean figured.

“I got ya covered, Sammy,” Dean said with a grin. They headed inside, the crashing noises and cursing that they’d heard while sitting and talking outside had long since become the background music of their childhood. Keeping their heads down, they ignored it and ran up the rickety stairs to the single bedroom they shared. Dean dug around in his nightstand and came out with a red box. He tossed it at Sam, who fumbled to catch it.

Sam raised the box to his eyes. “Thermacare? Dean, I don’t understand – “

“I know it’s for pain relief, but they produce heat once exposed to air. I don’t get how it works. Don’t have to. They’ve got some that are specifically designed for hands!” Dean grinned, proud of himself. 

“Dean, that’s brilliant!” Sam crowed, throwing his arms around his brother very briefly before getting set up in the blankets on his bed and wrapping the heating packs around his hands and wrist, then pulling gloves over them to trap the heat in.

Dean’s phone rang then and he answered it, wondering if Bobby might be calling to tell him he’d have work for Dean on Saturday after all.

It wasn’t Bobby. It was the bank. Someone had drained his bank account.

Every. Last. Penny.

The money that was going to save him and Sam. Gone. Just, all gone. His face paled and tears pricked at his eyes, his voice rough as he talked to the bank. Thankfully, Sam wasn’t paying attention, now lost in the details of his schoolwork, one of those battery operated lanterns sitting beside his books. Dean slowly pocketed his phone and left the room in a numb haze.

He’d barely reached the bottom of the stairs before he’d realized it had gotten quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that meant one of two things. John was passed out drunk or John was pissed.

Dean slammed into the wall and knew option 2 was alive and well.

“You holding out on me, boy? Hiding money that could be helping this family? What the hell is wrong with you?” John roared.

“It’s my money, and I _was_ using it to help this family. It was for me and Sam!” Dean yelled back, shoving away from his dad. “Not that it matters, cause it’s all gone!” Dean froze midstep and whirled back to face his father. “You _took_ it, didn’t you?

“It’s family money, son. Of course I took it. You need to take care of your family.” John growled.

“Oh, right, like _you_ should be doing? Like you _haven’t_ been doing? What did you do with that money? Cause it sure wasn’t turning our electric back on, or our heat! Did you get any food? _What did you do with my money_?” Dean advanced on his father, hands balled into fists, chest tight at the thought of all his hard work, gone to nothing.

“My money, Dean. And you don’t need to know.” John shoved past Dean, sending his son sideways into the staircase, the already broken railing creaking and snapping some more.

Dean couldn’t breathe, he needed to get out of there.

He turned and ran, stumbling out of the house, slamming the door behind him. All thought of getting any sleep that night before his next job was long lost. There’d be no sleeping after this. He was too upset, too worked up for that.

His boots thudded on the concrete, kicking leaves as he ran down the sidewalk. He paid no attention to where he was going till he stood in a park, doubled over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. Dean fell to his knees, sobbing, making it even more difficult to breathe.

Mom had always told him, angels were watching over him. Either she was lying or his angel had given him up as a lost cause _years_ ago.

A heavy, calloused hand landed gently on his shoulder, while a familiar voice spoke. “Not a lost cause, Dean. Nor am I exactly an Angel, though I do got me a pair of wings that’ll take your breath away. Well, if you had any left, I guess. C’mon, you’re ice cold. Let’s go and get you warm.”

Dean - the sobs subsiding, his breath finally coming a little easier - turned around slowly to see who was speaking. There was no way it was –

“Benny?” Dean hiccupped. Benny nodded.

“Aye, that’s me, Dean. Now, you ready to come in outta the cold? Got a guest room above the shack and it’s mighty warm. An’ if you want, you can tell that brother o’ yours he’s welcome too.”

Dean nodded, accepting Benny’s outstretched hand and allowing himself to be pulled up. His head was stuck on something Benny had said.

“What wings?” he blurted. Then he colored. There was no way Benny had wings. Why the fuck had Dean asked that question with the expectation that Benny did? But then he blinked.

Because _holy fuck_ , Benny _did_.

“Fuck! What are you?” Dean scrambled back away from Benny. Benny wasn’t human? The guy with a Cajun accent that owned the gumbo shack wasn’t even human? What the fuck was going on? Dean had been crushing on a non-human- fairy-like…thing? Was he hallucinating from sleep deprivation? How much sleep dep did you need for something like that to happen? Dean didn’t actually know and at this moment, he didn’t much care.

“I’m a Fairy Godmother.” Benny pointed at the translucent and iridescent wings unfurling from his back.

“Bullshit.” Dean blinked. “Aside from the fact that you’re the wrong gender - what took you so long to _get_ here to help me?”

“Ah, well, first, Fairy Godmother is just a title. They can’t very well call it Fairy Godmother and Godfather and Godwhatevers – it’s too much of a mouthful. So, it’s a generic phrase now. And two – well, I’ve always been a poor excuse for a fairy godmother. Been demoted, actually. All I still got, is the wings and some mind reading tricks that keep flickering in and out. So, trying to figure out how to help ya ain’t been easy, Dean. Not when I don’t got any more powers.”

Sh’yeah, right,” Dean scoffed. “What would a fairy godmother be doing working at a beat up old gumbo shack?”

“I told ya, been demoted...” Benny looked sheepish. “Owing to an incident that may or may not have been a little too...enthusiastic in the execution of my job. It was felt I was a tad too volatile to be a fairy godmother.” Benny sighed. “But I tell you cher, he deserved it. ‘sides, I _like_ gumbo. Now, are ya gonna let me help you or not?”

“If you’ve been demoted – are you even _allowed_ to help me?” Deans eyes narrowed speculatively at Benny.

“Errrrmm….no?” Benny shrugged. “But I don’t care. I like you Dean, and you don’t deserve none of that shit you and your brother been going through.”

“And what exactly do you know about what I’ve been going through?” Dean demanded.

“I’ve seen the bruises Dean, the flinching, the exhaustion. I know you been working three jobs – and no matter how few hours they all add up to, that ain’t healthy! I’ve seen the house and…don’t get mad at me none, cause I can’t control it, remember? But I seen some of your thoughts too and…it breaks my heart to know how hard you work; how good you are and kind and loving and you’re just getting…smothered. I can’t do much, not anymore, but I want to help you.

“I don’t want pity, Benny,” Dean snarled.

“It ain’t pity, cher. Truly,” Benny stared at him soulfully and Dean felt his heart skip a beat. “My place ain’t much better than the house you live in now, but it’s sturdy, an’ it’s clean an’ I wouldn’t hit ya or steal your money.”

Dean just stared at him, unsure how to take it all. Yeah, he’d wished for an angel or a fairy godmother to magically make things better. _God_ , how he wished, but this just wasn’t real and you just…he couldn’t accept it… _could_ he? Benny coughed, his wings curling back, the slight glow they’d given off that Dean hadn’t even registered disappeared as they were tucked away somewhere.

“I uh, have to admit, I do have an ulterior motive, Dean. See…I like you. I know I already said that, but I really mean it. I would love for you to, to quit your other jobs instead of drivin’ yourself into the ground. For you and Sam to come move in with me, and we could…make the gumbo shack a family business. You got the knack, Dean, and…if you…maybe…eventually…Sam could have his own room…”

“Sam could have his own room?” Dean asked, confused. A brisk wind blew through and fluttered his thin jacket and he shivered.

“Aye, if you’re okay with that. If you’d…consider a washed up Fairy Godmother as boyfriend material?” Benny said, nervously.

“If I was okay with that or not, wouldn’t you already know?” Dean asked breathlessly. Holy shit! Was Benny serious? Dean’s heart pounded. He’d never dreamed his crush could have any sort of potential. Not with the way his life had been heading.

“What? You mean the sporadic mind reading powers I got?” Benny asked. Dean nodded, the movement caught by a stray streetlight. It’d grown dark fast. Dean used to love the fall, but as he got older and things grew more precarious in their house he’d learned to dread the colder months. It was harder to make do if you had no power, no money for warmer clothes and blankets. “Well, like I said, they come and go. I can’t control them no more. Not sure I’m even supposed to still have ‘em, y’know? I just pick up glimpses, here and there. Not enough to rely on without having more evidence, or doing research. That’s something you learn early on, cher – unguarded, random thoughts can be taken out of context all too easily.”

“Oh,” Dean said. He shivered again and Benny moved forward, looking just as he normally did, all kinds of graceful and gorgeous. He shucked off his thick coat and tucked it around Dean’s shoulders. Dean instantly felt a thousand times warmer, but then he instantly felt guilty. “Benny, no…what about you?”

“I can deal, cher, especially if you can make a decision for me and we can get moving in a direction. And…if you don’t want to make the big decision tonight, you could still come with me, just to spend the night someplace warm, you and your brother, and decide later?” Benny offered softly.

Dean nodded. “Okay, I think, yeah, that’s…that’s fairly reasonable I guess.” The more he thought about it, the better he felt about Benny’s offer.

Benny _was_ all sorts of awesome, and it wasn’t like Dean wasn’t already attracted to the man. And anything had to be better than where they were. Nor was Benny going to push if Dean decided he wasn’t interested in him that way. It wasn’t about that, and it wasn’t about pity. If the earnest expression on Benny’s face was anything to go by, Benny just honestly wanted to help. And it wasn’t like Dean was going to be mooching off of him, seeing how he’d still be working for Benny.

So…honestly…what were the downsides?

Uh, Benny wasn’t human?

Pshh…like that mattered. Dean was fairly sure Benny was more ‘human’ then certain people he knew (John Winchester came to mind).

Okay, so, this sounded promising. He still had to talk to Sam about it in the more permanent sense but he would definitely take up Benny’s offer for the night. A good night’s sleep would do wonders for all of them and then, when Dean was thinking straight, he’d broach the subject with his brother.

“Okay, let’s go get Sammy,” Dean said with a grin.

Maybe things really were looking up. Maybe mom hadn’t been wrong about having a guardian angel – he just hadn’t been anything Dean would ever have expected.

Dean found that, on the whole, he didn’t really mind. You couldn’t really make problems magically disappear but…this was good. He could work _towards_ solving his problems.

And Benny was just offering that Dean didn’t have to do it alone.

That, in itself, was worth it.


End file.
